


Hey You

by cacophonybells



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Artist Zayn, M/M, Songfic, singer liam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:47:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9597722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cacophonybells/pseuds/cacophonybells
Summary: Hey, you, feel like falling in love on a subway train.Won't you tell me your name?Or Liam and Zayn meet on the subway





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on "Hey You" by BoysLikeGirls

'If I miss this train I'm walking home.' Liam reminded himself as he ran down the pavement. It was chilly out for a Sunday evening in August and Liam didn't feel like walking a whole 15 miles home. 

He turned the corner and saw the subway station. He sent silent praises to no one in particular as he jogged down the steps.

He swiped his Metro Card and slide through the gates. His train was about to depart and a rush of adrenalin ran through him as he sprinted towards the closing doors. He just barely managed to slip in the subway car as the doors closed. The doors nicked his jean jacket and left a gross black scruff but he'd wash it out later.

Liam sighed in relief and scanned his surroundings. All the seats were taken mostly by people on his position, late getting off from work and trying to catch the last train home. 

His eyes fell on one free seat. He smiled and started to go towards it but noticed a travel coffee mug was perched on the seat and someone in the seat next to it. 

The first thing Liam saw was a pair of scuffed-up black boots with ratty army green rucksack behind them. As his eyes wandered up the thin, lengthy legs that were practically painted into black skinny jeans, he discovered that today's issue of the New York Times was covering the person's face. 

Suddenly, a thin, long hand reached for the coffee cup as the paper was lowered. Liam watched as the cup was raised to the mouth of the person— man— who was hiding behind the news. 

The man was... He was gorgeous. 

That's the only word that could give this lad justice. 

The top half of the boy was just as visually appealing as the lower. He wasn't built, like Liam, he was the perfect size. Though it was hard to tell when he wore a loosely fitted white tee and a black leather jacket. 

Then there was his face, oh his face. 

He was a had a flawless completion, or at least Liam thought, he was still halfway across the car. The lad was a nice tan to his skin, but Liam couldn't pinpoint his ethnicity. His hair looked soft to touch and Liam definitely wanted to run his fingers through.

He shook his head clear of those thoughts. But, could you blame him? The lad was stunning. What the hell? Why was he alone?

'I should sit with him.' Liam thought to himself.

He is all alone.

But maybe he wanted to be alone.

Maybe he was hoping someone would sit next to him.

Maybe it'll make his day to have someone strike up a friendly conversation?

"I'm doing it." Liam said out loud.

"Uh... Good for you?" A voice came from besides him.

Liam wiped his head to the side to see a business man, sitting in the seat next to where he stood.

"Sorry, sir... I was... Talking to myself..." Liam flushed and immediately hung his head.

He took a few seconds to regain his dignity. Now, before he could change his mind again, he walked over to the gorgeous man, thankfully he had the cup in his hand at the time so Liam didn't feel bad for taking the man's makeshift cup holder.

"May I sit here?" Liam asked.

"Free country." The man returned. His voice was thick and warm like honey in tea but flowed smoothly like a thawing stream in the spring time. A comely contradicted.

Liam took the vague answer as a form of yes and sat down, organizing his stuff and trying not to hit the man next to him. 

"I'm Liam." Liam tried to create conversation.

"That's nice." He said as he flipped the page, disinterested.

Liam pulled out his phone but as he did this the car shook as the train took a turn and it fell from his hand and crashed to the floor, sliding under the bench and hitting the boy's rucksack.

Liam and the boy both leaned over at the same some and smacked heads causing Liam to jolt in surprise and kick the man's bag and knock it open, scattering is stuff.

"Fucking shit, I am so sorry!" Liam was flustered as he got up and gathered to boy's things and put them back in the bag and handed them to him.

He noticed a small slip of paper on the ground and he picket it up. It was another train ticket.

"Bradford?" Liam said, reading the ticket.

"My ticket for your phone?" 

Liam looked up and saw the man had his phone in his hand. Liam nodded and gave the guy the ticket in exchange for his phone.

"What's in Bradford?" Liam asked, he flinched, "sorry, that was nosy."

"It's alright." He said and shrugged, "home, home is in Bradford."

"Just vacationing in London then?" Liam asked, hiding his small disappointment.

"No, I have a flat in the city." He said before looking out the window to watch the underground lights pass by, "but I'm probably just going to stay home this time." 

"Why's that? If... If you don't mind my asking." Liam said, more distracted by the boy than the silly lights he sees every day.

"This world wasn't cut out for artists." He said absentmindedly, a small flicker of admiration crossed his face when the train passed a graffitied mural on the wall, "you can't make a living on selling your art alone. You need school to tell you the right way to draw. You need school to tell you the right way to shade. You need school for everything now of days, but sometimes we don't need school. I don't need school to tell me I'm a good artist. I need school for a job and that's it. This isn't a dreamer's world. You don't get what you want by dreaming hard enough. You have to work for it, but sometimes it just doesn't work out and you have to go crawling back home with you tail between your legs." He looked back over at Liam, "sorry, that got a little deep didn't it?"

"It did, but I liked it." Liam shrugged, "but you don't necessarily need to go home."

"I have a shitty apartment, I have expenses, and I have to eat some how. I have a job that barely let's me cover all of those. It's just not worth it. It's time to throw in the towel." The lad sighed and pulled his knees to his chest.

The car had gotten quieter, it was near empty now.

"When I first came to London all I had was the clothes on my back, and a beat up guitar." Liam began, "I'd sit on street corners and play my guitar for spare change to buy myself a decent coffee. It took five weeks of living on the streets before I caught a break. One morning, it was pouring rain but I was starving so I kept playing. Suddenly this big man came by and put an umbrella over my head and told me to get up and follow him if I wanted a warm place to sit and cooked meal. I was desperate so I followed. The man's name is Paul. So I follow Paul to this bar, it's pretty nice, it's got this nice little stage in the corner and everything. He gave me a towel, and a hamburger and for payment I was to tell him my story. So I told him about how I wanted to leave home and become a professional singer. He, of course, laughed at me. But he told me that if I impressed him, I could sing for one hour each night at his bar and have a job there the rest." Liam paused.

"Well, did you impress him?" The man asked, eager to hear the rest.

"Very much so." Liam smiled, "I sang every right from 9pm to 10pm and the worked until 2am. Awful hours but worth it to have a steady income and a place to sleep. Eventually I caught a lucky streak. A small producer came in to drink his sorrows when he heard me. We're working on an EP right now."

"Damn, mate, that's impressive." The lad's eyes widened.

"See? Life gets worse before it gets better. I refused to give up. I'd rather die on the streets working for my dream than go home and live a life where I wasn't loving what I did every second of the day." Liam said, "you can't give up now. You can't go home just yet. It's hard now but if you stick to it you'll catch your break, I know it."

"How can you be so sure? How can you be so sure of all of this? How do you know that your EP will sell? You can't promise anything. How are you so sure of yourself?" The boy got quiet.

"I'm not." Liam said honestly, "I'm not sure of anything. It's a feeling, you just know. Don't over analyze everything. Life is too short to think, 'what if'. We say what we say. We do what we do. We love who we love. If life is a small town, we're just passing through. Blink and you miss it."

The boy was about to open his mouth but the train was slowing, "this is my stop." He said, he almost looked sad.

"Will I see you if you come back from Bradford?" Liam asked, almost sounding desperate.

Quickly, the boy pulled a a slip of paper from he rucksack and ripped it in half. He turned away and started to scribble before he turned back around and handed it to Liam as he stood and got near the door.

"Hey, you." Liam called.

The boy looked at him as the doors slid open.

"Won't you tell me your name?" Liam asked.

The boy smiled and walked off of the train. Liam frowned and was about to shove the paper in his pocket when there was a tap at his window. He looked and saw the man standing there with a smile. He pointed at Liam's hand before waving and heading off.

Liam looked down at the slip of paper and under the phone number, in neat script, read, 'Zayn'. 

"Zayn..." Liam said and smiled. He folded up the paper to put it in his picket when he realized there was more on the back.

It was the ticket to Bradford and on it was written, 'think you could put in a good word with your boss? I'm an excellent bartender.'

As soon as he reached his stop, Liam ran all the way to his apartment. Once he was inside he pulled out his phone and punched in the number. It rang for 6 seconds before a familiar voice picked up.

"Hey you."

**Author's Note:**

> Short and unedited, I know, but this is my first ziam fic. I hope it wasn't shit!


End file.
